In Retrospect
by Cinderellen
Summary: A series of memories as Narcissa reflects upon what time has done to the Black sisters.
1. Part I: Naivete

**Title: **In Retrospect

**Rating:** PG

**Summary:** A series of memories as Narcissa reflects upon what time has done to the Black sisters.

**Disclaimer:** All belongs to J. K. Rowling.

**Notes:** Written pre-HBP, but I think everything is still canon. I've decided, since we don't know for sure the age order of the sisters, to make Andromeda the oldest, followed by Bellatrix and then Narcissa. All dates are based upon the fact that, according to the Lexicon, Tonks was born in 1973. Thanks to the Lexicon and to my betas.

**Part I: Naïveté**

_January 1982_

Narcissa gazed out the window of the carriage as it floated up the drive. It was quite gratifying to see the look on the butler's face as he came to open the door for her. Of course that was, she realized, the reason she had taken the carriage instead of Apparating, a quicker, more efficient mode of transportation. So few wizarding families used carriages anymore, but Narcissa had always enjoyed the leisurely atmosphere it provided, not to mention the aura of luxury and wealth that surrounded the old-fashioned vehicle.

She let the butler help her out. Though she held her head high, not acknowledging his deferential bow, she noticed that he was not the same servant as the one who had greeted her upon her last arrival. Most of the gentry would have failed to notice the difference between one servant and another, especially when they all dressed the same, but Narcissa had always prided herself on her sense of observation. Her curiosity rose, as she wondered why someone new was necessary yet again.

Sweeping into the house, Narcissa passed her deep blue velvet cloak to the waiting house-elf. This one was not new; she remembered the creature from her youth.

"Miss Narcissa," the elf murmured. "The Mistress is waiting in the drawing room."

It was interesting, she thought, that the house-elf was giving introductions, not the butler. How times had changed.

The house itself had not changed in the few months between her last visit and now. The opulent, gold molding decorated the walls, on which were hung the same exquisite paintings. The chandelier in the foyer sparkled as usual, and the crimson carpet that led up the elegant main staircase was as clean as ever.

It was the silence that was different; Narcissa shivered, though it wasn't the temperature that gave her goose bumps. The whole house felt cold, empty, as if death was right around the corner. Truly, there were no less people here than usual, but apparently even the house could feel the change in the air.

"Narcissa!" A stately lady rose from her chair and moved towards Narcissa, a smile upon her face. Her robes were black silk, of the finest quality and cut, and her hair and makeup were flawless.

Odelina Black, though now in her fifties, was still as elegant, genteel and impressive as she had been in her twenties. Narcissa often wondered how her mother remained so thin, without a gray hair on her blonde head; even the black that society ordered her to wear suited her. Then again, she doubted her mother's body would dare do anything with out explicit orders from Odelina herself.

"Mother." Narcissa offered her cheek to be kissed, and then sat down in one of the antique chairs.

"You look lovely, my dear," Mrs. Black murmured as she beckoned the house-elf to pour tea. "Those new robes are so flattering."

"Thank you," Narcissa replied with a smile. Her new robes were the latest style, fresh from Paris, in the pale blue she had always favored. They accentuatedher forget-me-not eyes, blonde curls and pale skin. But that her mother found them suitable and attractive made Narcissa feel like a little girl again; compliments from Mrs. Black had always been so rare.

She accepted the china cup from the house-elf, as she pondered if she should mention the new butler. Then again, household staff was probably a subject best left alone for now.

She sipped her tea, the awkward, cold silence almost unbearable. She hadn't come all this way to make small talk with her mother, but she had no idea how to introduce the dreaded subject. After all, Mrs. Black was an expert at deflecting unwanted questions and avoiding distasteful topics. She would have no desire to talk about Bellatrix now; Narcissa could remember all too well Mrs. Black's response to the situation with Andromeda.

_December 1972_

It had been Christmas, of course. The Crouches were hosting their annual party in their magnificent ballroom, decorated in reds and golds. Witches and wizards of the highest class mingled around, eating and drinking, dancing and talking, but Narcissa had sat on the stairs, gazing down at the ballroom below, her face impassive. The many witches and wizards meandering around the room wouldn't have been able to tell how very listless and confused she felt.

It was just two weeks after Andromeda's abrupt departure from the Black household and here they were, acting as if nothing had ever happened. Narcissa's parents held their heads high, smiling and chatting with the other guests, all of whom were oh-so-delicately avoiding the questions, but dying to know all the gossip. Narcissa had no doubt there were rumors flying around; every face seemed to hide a snide remark behind a fake smile.

She didn't want to answer questions and pretend it was all nothing. Her older sister, Andromeda, whom she had followed around adoringly for so many years, had disgraced the family in too many ways. Narcissa had always longed to be Andromeda – beautiful, mature, elegant, and always so perfect. And now, realizing what her sister had been doing all these years, discovering her sister's true thoughts, and witnessing her sister's mortifying elopement with a muggleborn, of all people, she didn't know what to think.

None of her family seemed to have this problem. Her mother had betrayed no emotion whatsoever when it happened and she was now fixing anyone who dared to mention Andromeda's name with an "Andromeda _who_?" look. Her father had denounced his eldest immediately and then he too began pretending as if nothing had ever happened. Bellatrix was the only who really let on how embarrassing it all was. She had thrown a fit when she heard the news, swearing to kill Andromeda herself for betraying and shaming the Black family this way.

"And what will people think of me?" she had demanded of no one in particular. "Is my name forever to be linked with hers? Will I have the same reputation that she now has – that of a depraved, muggle-loving woman, lacking in morals and sense? What will people say?"

"People will say what people will say," Mrs. Black had replied. "But you are a Black, Bellatrix, and no one will ever forget that."

Now Bellatrix was dancing and laughing with her friends, throwing brazen looks at the young men, making everyone stare as they passed her by. The center of any gathering was where Bellatrix would always be and it appeared that nothing Andromeda did could change that.

Narcissa felt no desire to mingle in the crowd, make conversation with old friends, smile politely at her parents' friends, or flirt with any of the men there, even if she could have. Just fourteen, she was not yet "out" in society. She felt out of place with the adults, yet far beyond the younger children playing inthe nursery upstairs. If she hadn't feared her mother's wrath so, she would have left. Instead, she spent the night crouched on the stairs, watching everyone else.

And in the carriage on the way home she listened to Mrs. Black reproach her for being so unsociable and improper.

"I saw you sitting there," Mrs. Black had snapped. "You should have stayed upstairs where you belonged, not skulked around like that. You're almost a young woman, Narcissa, so you had better learn to behave like one. Goodness knows your sisters seem to be lacking in that department."

But the difference between Narcissa and her sisters was that neither Andromeda, now long gone, nor Bellatrix, ignoring her mother from the corner of the carriage, would have been upset by Mrs. Black's words. Narcissa, however, felt like crying.

_January 1982_

"More tea, my dear?" Mrs. Black's voice broke Narcissa's reverie.

"Oh, ah, yes, please," Narcissa replied, surprise getting the best of her. She remembered a time when Mrs. Black wouldn't have been quite so polite to her youngest daughter.

Andromeda had always been her favorite; beautiful, polite, accomplished, elegant and every inch the perfect Black. The Black matriarch often held Andromeda's behavior up as an example for her other daughters to follow. But that had never gone to Andromeda's head; she was always sweet and polite to her sisters, making it impossible to hate her. At least it was impossible for Narcissa to hate Andromeda; Bellatrix had no problem scorning both her sisters. As the most intelligent, she was her father's favorite. He was forever giving her new spell books and she ate them up every time; she was the son he had always wanted. Her marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions were higher than any other student in the history of Hogwarts. She was as beautiful as Andromeda, but where Andromeda's attraction was in her smile and sweet temper, Bellatrix's was in her ability to fascinate everyone who came into contact with her. Unfortunately, her high spirits and unpredictable temper kept her from being perfect in her mother's eyes, but that had never bothered Bellatrix.

Narcissa, the youngest, had always felt as if she would never be good enough for her parents. While her grades were good, they were nothing to Bellatrix's and she had excelled in Charms and Divination, nothing worthwhile in Mr. Black's mind. She didn't have Andromeda's elegance or charm, or Bellatrix's command. In fact, Narcissa, as a child, had been unable to conjure up the Black demeanor that spoke of poise, power, and a firm belief that as a Black, she was better than everyone else. Her father never had time for her and her mother despaired of turning her into a "real Black." Meanwhile Andromeda's and Bellatrix's stars were growing and Narcissa had felt left behind, longing to follow her sisters everywhere.

_July 1971_

"Andromeda, you must wear the pink robes," Mrs. Black commanded as the girls prepared for the party that evening. "And Bellatrix, you wear your red ones."

Both girls nodded as their mother swept out of the room. Narcissa sat in the closet, hidden, as she watched her sisters dressing through the mirror.

"Bella, once you're dressed, let me help you with your makeup," Andromeda cajoled her younger sister, her voice sweet.

"Don't be ridiculous, Andromeda," Bellatrix retorted. "I think I can take care of myself." She made a face at the robes her mother had picked out, but pulled them over her head anyway. She glanced into the mirror for a second before turning back to Andromeda, who was carefully adjusting her robes. Though Bellatrix pretended to have little time for makeup and hair, Narcissa knew her older sister like to look her best; Andromeda said it was because of all the young men that would be at the party. Bellatrix was an attention seeker, and loved the fact that her looks drew so many men.

"No, you can't," Andromeda replied, fixed a ribbon in her own chestnut curls. "I know Mother objects to us wearing makeup, and it's not like you need any, but I'm better at it than you."

Bellatrix tossed her head, her violet eyes flashing. Such an irregular color, everyone always said, as they were drawn to Bellatrix's gaze. Indeed, Narcissa would give anything to trade her pale features and childish face for Bellatrix's darker complexion, and hard, aristocratic characteristics. Or even for Andromeda's brown curls and eyes, sweet smile and her classic features. In Narcissa's opinion either type of beauty was preferable to her own looks. She could never hope to overshadow her sisters.

"Really, you should wear violet," Andromeda continued. "It brings out your eyes."

"Purple is a hideous color," Bellatrix snapped. "Stop primping and hurry up."

"Mother won't like you wearing your hair down," Andromeda warned.

"I don't care," Bellatrix replied, turning her head to admire her long hair.

"No, you don't," Andromeda's voice took on a teasing tone. "I do believe the Lestranges will be there tonight."

"Of course they will," Bellatrix replied.

"At their party you and Rodolphus seemed to be getting along very well," Andromeda turned away from the mirror, a mischievous smile on her face. Bellatrix flushed, before tilting her chin up.

"Stop matchmaking, Andromeda, you know I can't stand it. Some of us are still in school and not quite ready to settle down with some boring man and raise children."

"Pity you're not interested," Andromeda's voice was deceptively calm. "I overheard Rodolphus telling Evan that he thought your hair was beautiful."

"He said that?" Bellatrix swung around. "Andromeda, if you're lying…"

"You don't scare me," Andromeda laughed. "Yes, he said that," she continued nonchalantly, turning away again. "Isn't that's why you're wearing your hair down, even though Mother won't like it? I know you'll flirt with every man in the room and even sneak off with one, which will drive Rodolphus crazy and make Mother furious. You're a tease, Bella."

Bellatrix ignored her, storming over to the closet to find her shoes.

"Cissa!" she cried when she stumbled over Narcissa. "Have you been here all the time?"

"What are you doing?" Andromeda came to stand behind Bellatrix, frowning slightly.

"Uh, I wasn't – I just wanted -," Narcissa mumbled, not sure how to deflect Bellatrix's anger.

"She can't even lie properly," Bellatrix sighed, scorn filling her voice. "Are you really a Black?"

Narcissa flushed, even though she knew that would just make Bellatrix ridicule her more. Bellatrix hated any sign of weakness. The whole Black family despised common traits, but Narcissa certainly had them all in abundance.

"I won't tell Mother about you and Rodolphus!" she cried quickly. She knew her mother was continuously trying to make Bellatrix behave in a more ladylike fashion and would be livid if she knew how Bellatrix flirted with everyone or that she cared about impressing Rodolphus Lestrange.

"Of course you won't," Bellatrix snarled. "You have some sense of loyalty, I hope."

"Bella, don't be cruel," Andromeda scolded lightly. "Cissa, come out from there. You shouldn't hide like that."

Somehow Andromeda's gentle reprimand hurt as much as Bellatrix's threats.

_January 1982_

"How's my darling little Draco?" Mrs. Black asked, smiling fondly. "You must bring him for a visit some time. And you did tell the house-elves to make that recipe I gave you last time you were here? Little children need to eat well; though not too much of course."

"Draco's fine," Narcissa replied. "He's walking and talking so well for his age! And Lucius wants to begin his wand training, but I don't want to push him too far…"

"He's a Malfoy and a Black, dear. He'll be more intelligent them all of them. So handsome too," Mrs. Black gushed. "He looks so much like you when you were little. You really were the most beautiful child. I was looking through old photo albums the other day." She rang the bell for the house-elf, while she continued to talk. "Such elegant young girls, all of you."

The house-elf hurried in, carrying a stack of old, dusty photo albums. Mrs. Black picked the top one up and opened it to the middle.

"See, there you are! Looking so lovely for that party. And there's your father…" she continued to talk, pointing out each picture. But Narcissa wasn't listening; she was glancing at the empty spaces, where photos once had been.

All of the pictures of Andromeda were gone.

She'd never realized that they'd all been taken out. Curious, Narcissa took another book from the house-elf's arms. While Mrs. Black flipped through the album, Narcissa looked through older ones

Sure enough, Mrs. Black, or whichever house-elf had actually done the work, hadn't gotten rid of them all. In one album, there were all the pictures of Andromeda; Andromeda holding little Narcissa while Bellatrix ran in circles around them; Andromeda laughing and chasing Bellatrix around; Andromeda posing for the camera; Andromeda hosting her first luncheon, while Narcissa watched in the background. Narcissa watched her sister's happy face, wondering if ever then, during her last summer in the Black household, Andromeda knew what was going to happen. Surely Mrs. Black, seated off to the side, had no idea. Nor did any other members of the family.

Except Narcissa. Watching her fourteen-year-old face it all came flooding back. The months of agony, of not knowing what was going on or what she should do about it. And for months after Andromeda's elopement, Narcissa continued wondering if she should have – even if she could have – stopped her sister in the beginning.

_June 1972_

"Shh, Cissa, don't move," Andromeda's whispers woke Narcissa. Her sister, dressed in strange Muggle clothes, was climbing over her bed.

"What?" Narcissa demanded blearily.

"Yours is the only window near a tree," Andromeda replied, opening the window with a flick of her wand. "You never saw a thing."

"Where are you going?" Narcissa demanded, but Andromeda was gone, sliding onto the branch situated near Narcissa's window, before slithering down the tree. Narcissa stared, shocked, at the figure running across the moonlit garden. It was the type of thing one expected of Bellatrix. In fact, because of Bellatrix's nighttime escapades, their parents had placed wards on the house, preventing anyone from Apparating in or out at night. Narcissa doubted that had stopped Bellatrix, as if obviously hadn't stopped Andromeda from doing the unthinkable.

The sun was peeking over the treetops when Andromeda swung herself backover the windowsill.

"Thanks, Cissa." Andromeda favored her little sister with a smile. "I knew I could trust you."

Feeling a flush of pride to know that her older sister _trusted _her, Narcissa said nothing. Every night for the rest of the summer Andromeda crept through the house and climbed out of Narcissa's window, but Narcissa never asked a question. Had it been Narcissa sneaking out via one of her sister's rooms, she had no doubt Andromeda would have gently forced Narcissa to remain inside. Bellatrix would have certainly used blackmail.

If either Bellatrix or Narcissa had known Andromeda's destination, they would have so shocked that sisterly loyalty would have been forgotten. And Mr. and Mrs. Black would have stopped their oldest right then and there.

_January 1982_

Narcissa had often wondered what Andromeda would have done if her parents had found out about her nocturnal exploits. Would she have caved in to their demands, with tears and protests? Stormed and screamed as Bellatrix would have? Obeyed without a question, like she had always done? Or walked out, head held high, every inch a proud Black defending her right to do whatever she wanted to do.

In fact, Narcissa had often been surprised that when Andromeda climbed out of that window for the last time, it was in the middle of the night. Competent, calm Andromeda would have told her parents what she was doing, not snuck off like she was ashamed.

That Andromeda might have been scared of her parents' reactions had never occurred to Narcissa until recently. Narcissa had been the meek, quiet one, while her sisters took orders from no one and never backed down. But now that she could reflect upon their past, she realized that perhaps Andromeda knew what she was doing to her family, and while she chose to do it anyway, she felt somewhat ashamed of her choice

Narcissa realized she was daydreaming again. Her mother, however, hadn't noticed and was still talking.

"And how is Lucius?" Mrs. Black asked, waving the house-elf away. Narcissa could tell how proud she was of her son-in-law. It was ironic, she mused, that of the three Black girls, she was the one who her mother now favored, she was the one who had married best, and she was the one who would carry on the Black lineage.

"He's fine," Narcissa replied. "Very busy with work, as usual."

"I hope he isn't neglecting you." Mrs. Black sipped her tea. "Of course, he's such an important man, just like your father. Really, I don't know what these men do all day, always so busy."

Mrs. Black was portraying the Odelina Black she showed to her friends and acquaintances at parties and gatherings. If Narcissa hadn't know the real woman, the strict ruler of the family, she would have thought her mother was just another vacuous lady who cared more about clothes and gossip than anything else. She knew that Mrs. Black had been the strength behind the family, the one that had held the Blacks together through many a disaster, and the one who kept the name from sinking too far. Although not a Black by birth, she had instilled more of the Black qualities in her daughters than Mr. Black ever had.

_August 1973_

As Narcissa packed her trunk she could hear Bellatrix down the hall. Ever since graduating from Hogwarts a few months before, Bellatrix had been bored at the Black Manor. She had no patience with her mother's social gatherings; Bellatrix had never been good at concealing her true feelings, nor had she ever thought she ought to, and more often than not she was very vocal about her boredom. Mr. Black had always ignored these outbursts, saying he liked a girl with "spirit" and Bellatrix's beauty, pride and intelligence kept her from being a total disgrace in society.

But if poised and polite Andromeda could elope with someone so unsatisfactory, then of what was Bellatrix capable? Mrs. Black was determined to save the family name.

"It isn't fair!" Bellatrix cried. From any other child the remark would have sounded petulant and unreasonable. Bellatrix simply sounded as if she was stating a fact. "I'm not Andromeda." She spat her sister's name. "Why must you confine me to the house?"

"Bellatrix, I can't have you gallivanting around," Mrs. Black snapped. "People talk enough as it is – do you want to be shunned and scorned too? You are a _Black_!"

Narcissa could almost see her sister's defiant pose, her violet eyes snapping angrily. No one could be quite so obstinate and intimidating as Bellatrix - except Mrs. Black.

"So what do you want me to do?" Bellatrix demanded. "Attend your insipid parties, smile and simper? That's what Cissa is for, not me."

It hurt Narcissa to know that Bellatrix thought so little of her. Ever since Narcissa had entered Hogwarts, Bellatrix had scorned her little sister publicly and privately; she'd had more use for Andromeda than the youngest Black girl.

"Certainly not," Mrs. Black retorted. "I have enough damage control to do without you making things worse. You can't be trusted in polite company and you certainly can't work like some common peasant, yet you seem unable to control yourself. I'd send you off to Europe like I did," she paused, "your sister, but you'll just get into trouble there too. However, your father seems to think your education is lacking. While I think it unbecoming for a lady to know so many spells and potions, I admit Hogwarts left you ill prepared for the real world.

"Therefore," Mrs. Black continued, giving Bellatrix no room to argue, "you will spend half your day with him, studying and helping in whatever way you can. Then you shall come to me, and I shall teach you how to behave like a lady. The rest of the day you may amuse yourself. Until we find your behavior satisfactory you will attend no parties or dinners of any kind." Mrs. Black's tone brooked no argument. "And hopefully I'll find you a husband soon enough."

Narcissa knew Bellatrix wouldn't take kindly to that. She always wanted to be doing something, but her restless escapades had yet to find any real cause. Bellatrix never did things half-heartedly; what she did, she did well, with all the passion and enthusiasm possible. Yet, for the time being at least, Mrs. Black had quelled her daughter's antics.

Not that Bellatrix would obey entirely. Her father's favorite, she could twist him around in a way no one, other than Mrs. Black, could influence the Black patriarch. Though if he knew of some of his daughter's activities…well, Narcissa had only heard the rumors. The things that went on in Slytherin House would have shocked many a former member; surely even Bellatrix would be more circumspect.


	2. Part II: Observations

**Part II: Observations**

_September 1973 _

Once she was back at school Narcissa heard the whispers and rumors. Last January, immediately after the event, it had been surprisingly calm. But over the summer the rumors seemed to have grown. And now that Bellatrix was gone, the spiteful girls had no one to be afraid of. They smiled to her face, but behind her back they talked about how depraved Andromeda was –

"Sleeping with a Mudblood, of all people!"

"I hear she's pregnant!"

"They're probably not even married!"

– Or even how debauched Bellatrix was –

"I heard she slept with the whole of Slytherin house!"

"She was out partying all summer, my brother said!"

Before Andromeda's elopement, the Black name had carried enough prestige to prevent nasty remarks about Bellatrix's behavior, and Andromeda had certainly never incurred such rumors. Now there were even rumors about Narcissa; they were entirely unfounded, but painful to hear.

"You are a Black!" Mrs. Black's voice echoed in her head. And Narcissa now learned that that meant something. She held her head, looked down upon all the lesser beings at school, and carried on as usual. The children of better upbringing respected that attitude and those that continued to spread the rumors soon stopped bothering after they realized nothing could faze Narcissa.In a way, Andromeda's disgrace had forced Narcissa to grow up quickly and assume some of the Black dignity to cover her confusion.

_January 1982_

"Lucius does have enough time for his family," Narcissa replied in answer to her mother's query. "Considering all the work he does and how many charitable functions he has to attend, he does spend quite a lot of time at home."

"Your father was like that – so very busy, but never too busy," Mrs. Black mused. "And he always included me."

As if he would have dared not to, Narcissa thought.

"He even took me to Paris that time, when he was sent by the Minister – dear Millicent, I haven't seen her in ages – on a diplomatic mission," Mrs. Black reminisced. "Do you remember that, dear? You were quite young."

How could Narcissa forget? She'd hadn't been all that young, really, just twelve. But even though Andromeda was eighteen, Mr. and Mrs. Black had refused to let their daughters stay home alone for the entire summer. Instead they sent them to the London house, where Mr. Black's younger brother and his family then lived.

_July 1970_

It was a beautiful house, Narcissa remembered. She often heard her father talk about how he had grown up there, spending the winters in London and the summers in the country, like any proper wizarding family. Since Marcellus Black and his family had moved in, the elder Blacks had never visited. Narcissa had often heard her mother telling her father that he ought to force Marcellus to find his own home, but Darrius Black had never questioned his younger brother's right to the house.

But beautiful or not, Narcissa didn't want to be here, in London, with her Uncle Marcellus, Aunt Desdoma and cousins Sirius and Regulus. Sirius was just two years younger than her and after spending the summer with him, Narcissa dreaded having such a boisterous, troublesome child at Hogwarts. Regulus was only seven years old, and a plaintive, petulant child – at least Narcissa thought so.

She didn't understand how Andromeda could play with their cousins for hours on end. Bellatrix's hatred of children was understandable now that Narcissa was living here.

"Sirius, I can't play hide-and-seek anymore!" Andromeda collapsed on the sofa next to Narcissa. "I'm exhausted!"

"I want to play quidditch," Sirius replied.

"Why bother, you aren't any good," Bellatrix snapped, lowering the book she was reading.

"Bella," Andromeda said warningly. She turned back to Sirius. "I'll watch you fly later," she promised.

Bella muttered something unintelligible, the book covering her face again.

"What are you reading, Bella?" Andromeda asked pleasantly. "You're not studying again? Really, O.W.L.s aren't that close."

"Just because you only got eight doesn't mean the rest of us should be satisfied," Bellatrix snapped. "I, for one, plan to do much better."

Narcissa couldn't help but wonder if all O.W.L. level Potions students had to read _Most Potente Potions. _Just from glancing at it she could tell it was a very advanced book; but Bellatrix was always clamoring for more knowledge.

"You're doing schoolwork in the summer?" Sirius gasped. "Why?"

"Little children wouldn't understand," Bellatrix replied haughtily, with a toss of her head.

Sirius looked like he was about to say something, but Andromeda distracted him by promising to play the piano for him. Bellatrix stormed out of the room, complaining about the "terrible noise", but Narcissa, like Sirius, listened entranced to Andromeda's music. She was gifted pianist and singer, and Narcissa could never listen to her older sister without wishing she could play and sing like her.

In fact, there wasn't much Andromeda did that Narcissa didn't want to emulate then. She didn't think anything of the fact that when Andromeda and Sirius discussed Hogwarts, Andromeda said dryly it would be better to avoid Slytherin House. When Andromeda wanted to visit Muggle London one day, neither Narcissa nor Sirius thought that there was anything wrong with that. It was only when Narcissa overheard her older sister arguing one evening and Andromeda called Bellatrix "a pureblood snob" that she wondered why perfect Andromeda seemed so dissatisfied with her world.

_January 1982_

"Speaking of 12 Grimmauld Place, it's fallen to pieces now," Mrs. Black continued. "Desmona only keeps one house-elf, can you imagine! Ever since Marcellus's death, so soon after Regulus's, she just hasn't been that same. Not that that's an excuse. We must all keep our heads, even in times like this." She sniffed, her scorn for her sister-in-law apparent.

Narcissa saw the perfect opening to introduce the real reason behind her visit.

"Mother, it's been hard on her to lose both her children," she pointed out. "First Sirius and then -,"

"Sirius! Don't speak to me of him!" Mrs. Black cried. "They said he betrayed those Potters to the Dark Lord." She sniffed. "Well, I just don't believe. Though it would comfort us all to know he'd turned out all right, I just don't believe it. You told me he was always like that at school; always off with people like _that_. He was a traitor, all right, but not to those Potters. To his family!" She took a breath and smiled. "But what can one expect? No use caring about it now, is there? At least we're fortunate that his arrest revoked the entail. He won't inherit any of it now."

Narcissa knew her mother's smile was just a façade for her fury. Mrs. Black didn't care about Sirius, off in Azkaban. She cared about the damage he had put on their name. Regardless of what the newspapers said, Narcissa knew he was no Death Eater. She wondered, occasionally, how he had ended up in Azkaban as a Death Eater when anyone that knew him had to know that, though a Black, Sirius was no muggle-hater. It had been no surprise to her when he'd walked out of the family for good, leaving yet another stain on the already tarnished Black name.

_July 1976_

"Goodness!" Mrs. Black exclaimed. She put her cup of teat down and examined the letter in her hand. "How awful!"

Narcissa glanced up from her own breakfast, wondering what gossip was intriguing her mother this morning.

"Where's your Father?" Mrs. Black demanded. "He will want to know at once."

Narcissa highly doubted her father would be interested in some scandal, so her curiosity rose.

"What's happened?" she asked. Mrs. Black looked up, sighing.

"It seems our family is never to be rid of the shame," she murmured. "Desmona has written me that Sirius has run away."

Narcissa thought of her sixteen-year-old cousin, whom she had seen just a few weeks ago at school. They rarely spoke, as they were in different houses, and Narcissa found his group of friends particularly annoying.

"He's been acting odd for awhile now, she says. Always saying how arrogant and cruel his family is, insisting that there's nothing special about being pureblood," Mrs. Black explained, still reading the letter. "Well, what can you expect from a Gryffindor? A Black in that house – no wonder he turned out so strange," Mrs. Black sighed. "Still, it's quite shocking. Desmona thinks he took the idea from," she paused, as she always did before she said her oldest daughter's name. "Andromeda," she said as fast as she could before moving. "Anyway, he's gone to live with the Potters, whomever they might be. Desmona plans to disown him and let him ruin his life if he wishes. Marcellus wants to force him back, teach him the error of his ways, and hope he'll see sense, as he is to inherit everything. And the entail can't be broken!" She sniffed. "The boy's spent far too many years with muggleborns and halfbloods; there's nothing to be done now." She glanced at Narcissa. "Who are the Potters?"

"They're a wizarding family, I believe," Narcissa replied. "Not very old – second generation, maybe. James Potter is a friend of Sirius's. Gryffindors."

"Ah, that kind of family," Mrs. Black said disdainfully, before rising. "Well, this will be all over the world by noon. I must do something. The Black name has been through enough."

Narcissa took it upon herself to Floo Bellatrix and tell her the news.

"How dare he! How dare he do this to us!" Bellatrix cried. "Doesn't he realize who he is, what he is? He was the Black heir, inheritor of this house, and the London house, and all our other land - the man who would carry on the Black name! And _this_ is how he treats such a position?" she seethed. "I should have been born a boy – I would have done this name credit."

"I'm sure you would have," Narcissa replied, having heard Bellatrix's jealous rants many times. Her sister was so devoted to and proud of her family name that she would have loved nothing more than to be head of the Black family, possessor of all the Black land. Instead she had to watch that fall to Sirius.

"Regulus is in Slytherin," Narcissa continued. "I doubt he will disgrace the name. And as neither of us would, I think there are people enough left to redeem our family."

But no amount of redeeming could turn back time. Only the Black pride kept their heads in the air, as other pureblood families sneered at a family who could lose two children to the "other side."

_January 1982_

"And then there was Regulus," Mrs. Black continued. "A weak, impressionable child. Desmona was so proud of him, but really, he wasn't worthy of the Black name either. No wonder he's dead; too pathetic to get anywhere in life."

Narcissa couldn't help but agree with the assessment, though it surprised her to hear such words from her mother.

"How glad I am that my children never disappointed me like that," Mrs. Black said, an outrageous statement when one considered where her two eldest children were now. "You and Bellatrix grew up so well. I was never happier than the day I saw you two married so well." She smiled fondly, obviously reflecting on the many months of superiority over her friends after her daughters had married the Lestrange heir and the Malfoy heir. Perhaps she considered both of her older daughters dead, with only Narcissa left. Narcissa knew that was the kind of lie her mother would feed herself until she believed it. Instead of focusing on the disgraceful episodes in her children's lives, she could focus on the more material aspects: their prosperity in marriage, status and wealth. Certainly, Bellatrix had done the Black family proud in that respect.

_December 1974_

"This is quite unexpected!" Mrs. Black's voice could be heard in the hallway. Narcissa stopped, wondering why her mother was in her father's study. No one went into the study except him and, occasionally, Bellatrix.

"I don't know why," Bellatrix replied. "After all, you mentioned how much attention he has been paying me. He even came here for tea that one day. And he's perfectly eligible; I thought you wanted the match."

"Well, I did wonder, but Mrs. Lestrange knew nothing of anything last time we spoke, nor did I have any inclination that you had any feelings for him." Mrs. Black sniffed. "And to not come to your father first…very unexpected."

"Odelina, I'm sure Rodolphus simply wanted to be sure that Bellatrix was – uh – in favor of such a match," Mr. Black interrupted. Though his voice was soothing, his tone left no room for argument. "We both want Bellatrix to marry well and be happy, and I cannot think of a single object to Rodolphus Lestrange. You said yourself that it would be an admirable match."

"And so it will," Mrs. Black replied, her voice softening.

"Rodolphus wanted to be the one to ask you, Father," Bellatrix said. "But I just couldn't wait until this afternoon. I was so sure you would give us your blessing."

"This afternoon?" Mrs. Black cried. "Were you going to tell me that, Bellatrix? I shall have to prepare tea. And ought I invite his parents as well? We have a wedding to plan…summer weddings are lovely, and they can be held outside. I do hope the Lestranges won't insist upon using their house for the reception. Though it is a nice house, their ballroom just isn't large enough."

With Mrs. Black still talking about the wedding, Bellatrix obviously decided to leave. She almost ran into Narcissa when she left the room.

"Cissa, eavesdropping again?" Bellatrix snapped.

"Don't be ridiculous, only you do that," Narcissa retorted. "I did overhear Mother, though. Congratulations."

"Thank you." Bellatrix looked so smug it irked Narcissa. "This will improve your chances of marrying well."

"I'm sure," Narcissa replied. "I had no idea it was so serious. Of course, he has liked you since we were children. I just didn't know you saw all that much of him."

"Well, I wouldn't tell you, now would I?" Bellatrix snapped.

"Bella," Narcissa sighed, using the nickname only Andromeda had dared to use. "I know you sneak out all the time. I know you must be going to meet the same people you were friends with at school. And," she lowered her voice, "I wonder if Mother and Father would approve of some of the things they do."

Bellatrix flushed angrily. "You're just jealous that I've never invited you. Yes, my friends weren't prim and proper ladies whose dream in life was to own the most fashionable clothes and the finest jewelry. Yes, I want to do something worthwhile with my life. I think both Mother and Father would approve of that."

But what they wouldn't approve of were the drunken revelries in school, the nighttime meetings or the rumors that surrounded that particular set. Whispers of the Dark Lord had followed them in school and now, away from Hogwarts and out of reach of anyone who might try and stop them, it was almost definite that Bellatrix's group from her school days had become Death Eaters.

Bellatrix, a firm believer in the supremacy of the older pure-blood aristocracy and the eradication of all muggleborns and half-bloods, would have been drawn to the idea behind such a group, if not to their wild parties and the extreme lengths they went to to get what they wanted. If torturing and killing others was what it took for the purebloods to regain power, Narcissa didn't know if her parents would approve.

She knew Bellatrix wouldn't be a casual observer in such a society. If she was part of it – and her engagement to Rodolphus, one of the supposed leaders in school, seemed to confirm it – then she would be at the head of it, pushing it forward and getting pulled too far in to leave.

"Be careful, Bella," Narcissa said softly. "I know you think I know nothing, but I know enough to recognize danger. Just – be careful."

Bellatrix's face was impassive, though Narcissa could see a slight change in her eyes. "You're too observant, Cissa. I see I shall have to be careful around you – or convert you."

It was a gamble, but Bellatrix loved to take risks. Narcissa watched her carefully, and stepped forward. Bellatrix didn't move, even when Narcissa wrenched the sleeve of her sister's robe up.

The Dark Mark glared back at her. Narcissa stepped back, shuddering.

"So now you know." Bellatrix pulled her sleeve down. "You shudder this time, but I know you see the wisdom of it too. Pain and repulsion can become enjoyable, in time." Her voice was clearly trying to temp Narcissa, but Narcissa could only see the Mark, the one than hung over houses when everyone inside was dead.

Her eyes never leaving Bellatrix's, Narcissa replied carefully, "I have such opposites for sisters. Someone needs to walk in the middle."

January 1982 

"We need more tea," Mrs. Black observed, before she rang the bell for the house-elf. When one did not appear immediately she scowled. "Wherever can it be? Household help is getting most inefficient these days."

"I noticed the new butler," Narcissa said hesitantly. "I was surprised to see yet another new one…"

"Given the present circumstances, I can't seem to find a trustworthy one," Mrs. Black sniffed. "This one is completely worthless; I only have him there for show. There's enough gossip going around, I wouldn't want anyone to say I couldn't afford a butler."

"Gossip, Mother?" Narcissa asked. "There was gossip before yesterday? Or are you speculating?"

Mrs. Black glared at her daughter. "I shall have to organize a party immediately – a winter gala, perhaps. I think it would be best to pretend none of this ever happened, don't you?"

Narcissa barely concealed her irritation. "Perhaps. But _we_ can talk about it. If there's gossip already…well, Lucius only told me yesterday. What else did Bellatrix do?"

"I suppose I ought to invite the Lestranges," Mrs. Black continued as if Narcissa had never spoken. "Though I do blame their sons for this whole mess. Bellatrix would have never -."

"Oh no?" Narcissa interrupted. "Mother, don't lie to yourself. Both you and Father knew what Bellatrix was capable of. You know how she's been for the past year or so -."

"I know that Rodolphus neglected her!" Mrs. Black snapped, composure gone. "He hurt her, but she was too proud to do anything. And to think I allowed him to marry her, when I knew he couldn't have loved her. He wanted her name and her fortune, that's all!"

"Don't you remember the wedding?" Narcissa demanded. "He loved her; he always did. And she was playing a very clever role to keep everyone thinking that she loved him too. I didn't see it at first either, but you know Bellatrix, she wouldn't have married for love. I always knew there was something wrong with that relationship…"

At that moment the house-elf appeared, and Mrs. Black transferred her anger to the hapless creature. Narcissa watched her mother, wondering how Mrs. Black could lie to herself after all these years. Even when it all began, she must have realized it was too perfect to be true.

June 1975 

It was odd, Narcissa thought, to watch Bellatrix now. Seated at the head of the table, white robes spread around her, she was gazing at Rodolphus' face adoringly. During the months of wedding plans Narcissa had seen Bellatrix at her worst in private; yelling at anyone who disobeyed her orders, scorning her family's suggestions, then refusing to participate for a few days, after which she would return to yell some more. But in public she had changed entirely. The girl who had enjoyed being the center of attention at every party, even if the attention was not always the best kind, who had openly derided her mother's friends and who had snuck off with any young man in the room, behaved perfectly. She was always smiling, always polite, and always impeccably gracious. Everyone agreed that the thought of marriage had turned wild Bellatrix Black into a very presentable lady.

Narcissa wondered, not for the first time, what had really happened. Did Bellatrix really love Rodolphus? The Lestranges were an old, wealthy, pureblood family; after Andromeda's elopement, it was a wonderful match. But Bellatrix wouldn't marry just for a "good match." Her pride would ensure her marriage to a pureblood wizard of a respectable family, but Narcissa had always doubted that Bellatrix would settle down at all. Though passionate, her devotion tended to be towards things and ideas rather than people. She was cold and haughty, she never spoke openly of attractions, if she'd had any at all, and her school relationships had either been extremely dysfunctional or exceedingly short. Besides, Bellatrix had always scorned the idea of all women settling down and raising the children while the man did all the work. If her older sister ever married, Narcissa had always thought there would be some deeper motive than love.

Yet here Bellatrix was, just twenty years old, gazing at Rodolphus like a lovesick child.

"Cissa, darling." Bellatrix smiled sweetly at Narcissa. "Have you danced with Rabastan?"

Narcissa watched the younger Lestrange brother messing around with his friends. They had all been a year ahead at Hogwarts, but Narcissa had found them immature and obnoxious. What really shocked her was the fact that Bellatrix – self-absorbed Bellatrix, without a care for her younger sister – was matchmaking.

Someone stopped by to congratulate Rodolphus and Bellatrix leaned towards Narcissa.

"He's perfectly eligible, dear," she murmured. "But perhaps you'd be more suitable with -."

"I still have a year of school!" Narcissa exclaimed. _Who are you? _She demanded silently.

"Never too young," Bellatrix murmured. "After all, you're the only Black girl left. Everyone will be after you."

"After me?" Narcissa demanded hotly. "Like I'm some kind of prize? Just an object to be owned? I'd think you, of all people, would know I expect more than that!"

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow. "Well, well, you're not as insipid as you look. All the boys at school always thought that because you are pretty and blonde, you'd be docile and submissive as well." She smiled slightly. "I see I shall have to find some extra special for you."

Rodolphus touched her shoulder. "Bella, darling, I want you to meet someone," he murmured. For a second Narcissa caught a flash of annoyance across Bellatrix's face – the look she used to have in polite society like this. Then it was gone, replaced with an angelic smile.

"Of course, dear," she murmured, standing up. Without a glance back at her sister, Bellatrix let her husband lead her away. Narcissa hadn't missed the look in Rodolphus' eyes as he watched Bellatrix – one more suited to an admirer whose love was unrequited, rather than to a newly married man. The change in her sister, the hidden secrets within this seemingly happy relationship, all left Narcissa feeling worried for the future.


End file.
